


Dead Man's Party

by thealphaaxolotl



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz, Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: Artemis is good at getting himself in trouble, F/F, Holly doesn't take shit, I make my own canon, It's my fanfiction and I get to choose the tropes, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2019-11-14 00:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18042383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphaaxolotl/pseuds/thealphaaxolotl
Summary: Alex wanted to destroy the people who had shattered his life. Artemis wanted to know why those people tried to kidnap him. Neither of them wanted to fall in love.As the song says, you can't always get what you want.





	1. Cat People (Putting Out The Fire)

Faye Raught did not consider herself an extravagant woman. But she had come to the conclusion long ago that sometimes a flair for drama was essential in her business. Nothing inspired fear quite in the way that theatrics did.

            Above her, the helicopter blades rhythmically droned. Raught couldn’t appreciate their full volume through her earplugs, but she drummed her fingers on her leg in time nonetheless. She imagined that the sound couldn’t be far off from that of the millions of thunderous migrating hooves in the nearby rift valley. If she was a tourist, she would have directed the chopper to turn in that direction, towards the masses of galloping bodies that were still somehow created a less oppressive atmosphere than the one they were currently flying through.

            Faye Raught was not a tourist. The helicopter began its descent.

            The lava lake below her beckoned almost seductively, like a pool of freshly pulled saltwater taffy. If that taffy had happened to be superheated to over a thousand degrees Celsius. Despite herself, Raught found herself briefly admiring the view.

            Then she nodded to the man sitting across from her. Mutely, he bowed his head in confirmation and rose as the helicopter leveled itself at a steady height. Beside her, Raught’s guest squirmed uncomfortably.

            She squeezed his shoulder with a startling hardness. “No need for that, friend. We’re here.”

            The man took the bag off of the guest’s head with a flourish. As disgruntled as he would be with the observation, Raught thought with some amusement, Cromwell enjoyed the pageantry of these events just as much as she did.

            Cromwell thrust the man until he was practically teetering on the edge of the helicopter door, keeping a firm grip on the back of his shirt. Instinctively, the man flinched away from the light and heat radiating from the lake below.

“Please, ma’am, I didn’t mean-! “ His plead collapsed into a whimper as he felt Cromwell’s grip on him loosen ever so slightly.

            “They call this place the gateway to hell,” Raught said over the whir of the chopper, ignoring her guest’s discomfort. “Really, it isn’t hard to see why. Men weren’t made to survive such habitats. Maybe this place is where our ancestor’s entire notion of hell came from.”

She stood up, keeping one hand on the grip above the door. “Erta Ale is one of the few volcanoes in the world whose crater holds an eternal lake of lava. You can see why it has a certain appeal for my line of work.”

Tears were falling down the man’s face. “Please, please,” he mouthed more than spoke.

Raught rested her free hand on the guest’s upper back. “I’ll admit, this is disappointing. You always acted like you were the most fearless person in the room, even when it would get you killed.” She considered. “Which, I suppose, doesn’t matter anymore because you ended up getting yourself killed anyway.”

The man shrank back as she leaned closer to him inquiringly. “Tell me, Martin, what did you think was going to happen if you had given the FBI those documents? Did you think you were going to make the Spartoi burn? That you were going to raze us to the ground?”

Raught returned her gaze to the lake of liquid fire. “Fool. We are from the earth. We cannot be burned.” A smile lit her features. “Funny thing is, though, is that you’re no longer one of us.”

She shoved him forward just as Cromwell released his grip.

The fall wasn’t going to be what kill him. Raught had made sure of that.

The screams didn’t last long, but Raught knew from experience that the smell would linger. She gestured tapped the pane of glass separating them from the cockpit, and the helicopter began to ascend.

As she sank back into her seat and pulled the buckle across her chest, Raught’s thoughts were already moving into the future. Now that this was done with, all energy could be devoted to the more important task at hand.

It was time to kidnap a genius.


	2. London Calling

Alex Rider grimaced up at the sign above him. There was no mistaking it. This was the place. _La Princesse du_ _Cygne_ , it read in its obnoxiously loopy cursive font.

            Maybe it was the Brit in him, but Alex already got the sense this place was insufferably pretentious. Which made it a less than ideal spot to pull off some sort of ambush. _Then again, maybe that was the whole reason he had chosen this place._ Alex wasn’t certain of which, but it was best not to leave things to chance.

The gun in his jacket weighed against his side. Once, the thought of holding the firearm would have repulsed Alex. Now he never went anywhere without it.

There was no use putting this off, though. He was already getting glances from the hostess that were sure to only get dirtier the longer he loitered outside of the Michelin-starred restaurant. With a steadying breath, Alex pushed through the doors.

Alex knew for a fact that he was probably making the stupidest decision possible in this scenario. A man you’ve never heard of calls your cell one day, claims to be an Irish noble or something and says he’s got information on the inner workings of the group of people you despise most in the world. Oh, and he won’t give you this information over the phone. You have to go and meet him in a spot of his choosing. Nothing about that was suspicious in the slightest.

And yet despite his brain screaming at him no to, Alex found himself agreeing to meet this stranger.

 He wasn’t sure exactly why that was. Maybe it was the hollowness that Alex had felt slowly filling his soul with each passing day. Before, his purpose had been to stay alive, just stay alive. Now that purpose was gone and had been for years, but there had never been anything substantial to replace it. Go to class. Play football. Go to work. Pretend not to see the missed calls from his America. Go to sleep and pray to nothing in particular for 8 hours of blissful oblivion and get just that, if he was lucky. He’d used up most of his luck years before, though.

Maybe danger was the only thing he could subsist on at this point. The thought was less than comforting, but it was the only explanation Alex could find for why he found himself agreeing to this odd meeting with this Fowl character. If this meeting turned out to be benign and he lived to see the next day, it was probably something he should bring up with his therapist.

None of that mattered now. Alex was here, in this god-awful French restaurant, and there was no turning back at this point.

He approached the hostess stand and cleared his throat lightly. The young woman behind it hadn’t seen him come in and jumped slightly.

“Oh! I mean, hello, sir.” She smiled at him but her eyes were darting around furtively, no doubt trying to discern if a manager had noticed her inattention. “I am so sorry about that. How can I help you?”

Alex shrugged in the universally millennial way to indicate that he didn’t give a shit about the server’s _faux pas_. “I’m meeting a fr- someone here, I mean. Fowl? At 12:30?”

The hostess hardly glanced at the notepad containing the restaurant’s reservation information. “Oh, yes, right this way.” She thrust a menu into Alex’s hands and beckoned for him to follow.

Alex allowed himself to be led into the depths of _La Princesse_ , noting the dimness of the room and the dark-toned wallpaper. Why fancy places like this always felt the need to deprive people of their sense of sight, Alex could never fathom. The room was lightly populated but just crowded enough so individual conversations couldn’t be picked up over the baseline chatter of the room. Fowl evidently didn’t want their conversation overheard. Alex felt that he himself would prefer that as well, all things considered.

Alex came to a halt as the hostess stopped in her tracks. She pointed to a table in the back corner of the room, where two figures seemed to be engaged in conversation. “Your friend is over there. Enjoy your meal.” With that, she turned on her heels and purposefully headed back to the front of the restaurant.

Alex frowned as he watched her retreat out of the gloom. The restaurant wasn’t that busy. Surely, she could have at least led him all the way to the table.

Paranoid. He was being paranoid. People were weird for all sorts of reasons and most of them weren’t at all related to doing you harm.

Still, Alex thought, brushing his fingers against the hilt of his gun, it would be best not to let his guard down for even a second.

The two figures at the table ceased talking when he approached. Now that Alex could actually see them better, he could see that they couldn’t have formed a stranger pair. Closest to him sat one of the biggest men Alex had ever seen and considering his early teenage years, that was saying something. He was scanning Alex nonchalantly enough, but there was there was something behind his gaze that indicated he would not hesitate in the slightest if he had to kill Alex there and then.

Nonplussed, Alex shifted his attention to the other man sitting at the table and found a pair of icy blue eyes staring back into his own. Their owner was a young man about Alex’s age, with raven hair and skin that was almost unhealthily white. His crisp suit made Alex self-conscious of the cheaply made blazer he had decided to wear to the occasion. Attractive, in an analytical sort of way.

            Then Alex came to the realization that he had been standing there and staring at this complete stranger for what must have been half a minute. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um. Hello.” What the hell was wrong with him? He was rarely this awkward, even in these sorts of situations.

            Thankfully, the man rose and extended his hand, saving Alex from having to analyze his own sudden lack of poise any longer. “Alex Rider, I take it?” His voice had the same aristocratic Irish tones as the person he had spoken to over the phone.

            Alex nodded in affirmation and reciprocated the handshake. “And you’re Fowl?”

            The other man sat back down and gestured for Alex to do the same. “Please, call me Artemis. Would you like anything to drink?”

            Alex lowered himself into a chair across from Fowl. “I’ll just stick with water, thanks.”

            The enormous man took the pitcher at the center of the table and poured its contents into Alex’s glass as he watched. If he didn’t think the possibility was of getting his skull crushed was very real, Alex probably would have made some snarky quip about how he was quite capable of performing simple tasks himself. As it was, though, he turned his attention back to Fowl. “I thought you said we were meeting alone. Who is this?”

            Artemis clasped his hands in front of him. “Butler is my bodyguard and friend. I trust him, probably even more than myself at times. You can be assured of his discretion regarding our conversation and whatever decision you come to.”

            Alex shifted and gave the man a sideways glance. Butler stared back. Looks like there wasn’t much of a choice in the matter. “Alright.” He changed the subject abruptly. “When we were on the phone, you said you knew about my history with Scorpia. How?

            Artemis looked faintly amused. “The British government has admirable cybersecurity measures, especially their intelligence agencies, I will admit. But ultimately fallible.”

            Alex stared at him. “You want me to believe that you successfully hacked into the MI6 in order to… what? Get my records?”

            “The CIA and ASIS as well, although admittedly not to the same extent. Your former occupation has taken you far, it seems.”

            Alex’s jaw tightened. “Occupation is a rather benevolent way of putting it. Maybe they didn’t put this in the files, but I usually didn’t have a choice.”

            For a moment, Artemis almost looked sympathetic. “I had gathered as much. For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry that they made you do such things at such a young age. No one deserves that.” He sighed. “Nevertheless, our unfortunate pasts make us who we are. Which comes to the reason I wanted to speak with you today. Have you heard of a group that calls themselves the Spartoi?”

            Alex frowned. “Can’t say I have. Who are they?”

            “They are an organized crime group on the rise, so to speak. According to what I’ve managed to find on them, they answer to a single leader, one Faye Raught.” Artemis unlocked his phone with a swipe, the model of which was completely unrecognizable to Alex. “This is the only picture I’ve managed to find of her so far. She rarely makes public appearances.” He slid the phone across the table, revealing a grainy image of a woman who could easily be mistaken by a tabloid as Dame Helen Mirren entering a vehicle with darkly tinted windows.

            Alex returned the mystery smartphone to its owner. “And what does this have to do with me, exactly?”

            Artemis leaned forward. “The interesting thing about the Spartoi is that they’re composed almos5 entirely of former members of other organized crime groups. The Russian Mafia. The Extinctionists. Snakehead. You name it. But a good bulk of the Spartoi is currently made up of former Scorpia members.”

            Alex felt a chill go down his spine. It wasn’t over. It would never be over.

            Artemis laced his fingers together. “I’ll be frank with you, Mr. Rider. You are probably one of the most knowledgeable people living when it comes to these people. That’s why I need your help.”

            Alex found his voice. “Why? You seem more than capable of gathering information on your own, as you’ve already demonstrated.”

            “Files are one thing. Experience is another. I need someone who’s dealt with members of this organization face to face if I’m going to stay ahead of them.”

            “And why do you need to do that?” Alex asked bluntly. “What does this even have to do with you? Why do you care?”

            Artemis looked pained. “It’s rather complicated. My father and I have had some… less than savory business dealings in the past. We’ve been legitimate for quite some time now, but it seems the Spartoi would still consider me a valuable addition to their organization. They’ve sent me several propositions and have become increasingly incensed that I keep refusing. I’m worried they will soon become a threat to my family if the pattern continues.” The display of smug knowledge that Fowl had been keeping up the entire conversation faded slightly and Alex caught a glimpse at how bone tired he seemed.

            “I fully trust the Butler family with my family’s security, but they cannot be everywhere at once and cover every possibility.” Artemis shook his head and met Alex’s gaze. “That’s why I must be proactive about this. That’s why I need you.”

            Alex felt as if he already knew the words even before they came out of Artemis’ mouth.

            “I need you to infiltrate the Spartoi and help me take them down from the inside.” 


	3. One Thing Leads to Another

Alex stared at Artemis. The words of his offer still rang in the air.

Then Alex angrily broke the silence. “Are you fucking kidding me? You really want me to go back in there? You said it yourself, you don’t know what these people are really like.”

Artemis didn’t seem disturbed by the outburst. “I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I didn’t think the Spartoi were an enormous threat not to just me and my family but humanity as well. As I said, this group is only starting out and they already have the potential to do grievous harm. The threat will only increase if we do nothing about them. Hundreds of thousands of lives could be at stake, if not more.”

Alex leaned back in his chair, scowling. “And you think I’m the only one in the world who can pull this sort of thing off?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Artemis mused. “There are dozens of people I could have hired for this sort of thing.” He met Alex’s eyes with a certain heaviness. “I assure you that I wouldn’t have dredged up all of this past unpleasantness if I didn’t think there was a good chance that you would be on their hit list sooner or later. Being bested by a child is enough to make a man bitter for a lifetime. I would know.”

And Alex had thoroughly humiliated them on three separate occasions. It wouldn’t shock him if there were still former members fuming over that detail. Begrudgingly, Alex banished the hostility from his voice. “Go on.”

Artemis took a sip from his water (all liquid and no ice, Alex noticed) and seemed to be considering his words carefully. “I know about everything Scorpia took from you. I won’t pretend like I can understand the magnitude of your pain. But wouldn’t you like to prevent the same sorts of things from happening to more innocent people?”

Alex was silent. Ancient explosions reverberated through his mind. He shook his head to clear them, but they persisted, threatening to bring up the images that accompanied them.

When he looked back up, Artemis was studying him. “You don’t have to come to a decision now, of course. But the longer we delay, the more lives are at stake.”

The hostess Alex had encountered earlier reentered the room, catching Alex’s attention. She was leading a group of about ten well-dressed 30-somethings to their reserved table. They were talking and laughing amongst themselves, blissfully unaware of the gravity of the conversation occurring a few tables away. Alex would be lying if he said a part of him didn’t envy them. Maybe that would be him in 10 years, able to have a lighthearted lunch with coworkers without having to worry about past or future trauma.

With the way things were looking now, Alex doubted it was going to happen. But it was a nice thought.

He looked back over at Fowl, whose expression was difficult to read. “I... I need a moment to think it over.”

Artemis nodded. “Of course. I hope you’ll still join us for lunch. The scallops here are one of my mother’s favorites.” He seemed like he wanted to say more for a moment, then decided against it and took another sip of his water.

The hostess was walking back their way. Come to think of it, it was odd that Alex had been seated as long as he had and hadn’t been approached by a single waiter, especially in a fancy place like this. Surely, she couldn’t be the only wait staff in the entire establishment.

A wave of unease coursed through his stomach. Something about this was off.

The hostess was absently digging for something in her apron pocket as she closed the space between them. Alex thought it over for a split second and came to a decision. He stood up and stepped into the aisle, blocking her path to the other occupants of the table.

“Mr. Rider, are you-?” Artemis stopped short when Alex held up a had to silence him. Behind him, Alex could hear Butler moving and prayed he wasn’t getting in position to kill him in a single blow.

The hostess took a step to the right to get around him. Alex mirrored her movement.

She frowned up at him, seemingly caught off guard. “Excuse me, sir.”

Alex smiled brightly. “You’re excused.”

She tried to push past him, confusion melting into a scowl. “If you could just-!”

Alex stopped her with a light hand on her shoulder. “That’s not going to happen.”

The hostess seemed momentarily at a loss. It was enough to make Alex second guess himself. Maybe he was a paranoid jackass and harassing this poor woman for no reason at all.

One of the members of the group table coughed.

It was enough to snap her out of it. She pulled the object she had been fishing for out of her apron and thrust it towards Alex’s chest.

Alex barely managed to sidestep the attack before he grabbed her wrist and twisted until she dropped the weapon. A thin stiletto clattered to the ground, its blade sparkling in the dimness of the room.

Someone screamed, and the other patrons began to flee the room. Alex barely noticed, however, as the hostess struggled free and made a lunge for the stiletto. He caught the end of her apron strings and yanked in the opposite direction as hard as he could.

As he had expected, the thin fabric ripped free from the rest of her apron. But it was enough to knock her off course for a couple of seconds and give Alex enough time to kick the stiletto far out of her reach.

Alex pulled his gun out of his jacket and leveled it squarely at the hostess’ face. “Don’t move.”

That was when he realized that none of the recently seated group had evacuated with the rest of the restaurant. In fact, they were all still standing around their table.

Each one had a gun pointed at him.

Shit. _Shit._ Alex took a small step backward, keeping his eyes trained on the group.

A few of its members stared past him. “Come with us and we’ll spare your friends here,” one called, gesturing to Alex with his gun. He didn’t dare turn around to gauge Fowl’s reaction.

From what Alex could tell, Artemis had been mumbling indiscernibly to Butler in short bursts since the fight had started, to which the larger man had responded in kind. After a moment, Alex heard the sound of two chairs being pushed back.

 A couple of the group shifted their aim. The man who had spoken for them before scowled. “Oh no. The big guy makes a move and we start shooting.”

“Of course,” said Artemis evenly. “Would you at least allow me to say farewell to my friend before we leave, though? I have to apologize for pulling him into the middle of all of this mess.”

The man’s eyes darted back and forth between them, no doubt trying to ascertain how great a threat they would be together. Then he seemed to decide that nearly a dozen guns pointing their direction was enough to stop two young adults from trying to pull anything reckless and huffed. “Make it quick.”

Alex heard slow footsteps behind him until Artemis was next to him, arms raised slightly. Alex tore his gaze away from the group and tried to read Fowl’s face. “The hell are you doing?” he asked. There was a strand of hair curling down on Artemis’ forehead, Alex noticed. Some part of him, probably dazed by the sudden change of pace this meeting had taken, wanted to reach out and fix it.

Artemis smiled ruefully. “I am sorry about all of this trouble, for what it's worth. I hope your future ventures are successful.” He extended a hand to shake.

Alex hesitatingly removed a hand from his gun and shook back, starting a bit when Fowl pulled him ever so slightly closer. “Keep your jaw unclenched,” Artemis breathed. He released before Alex could react and stepped away, turning to the armed group. His smile had taken on a slightly more intimidating note.

“Might I ask you good people a question?” He gave enough time for the Spartoi to look confused before he continued. “Have you heard of Percy Bysshe Shelley? If your secondary education was worth anything at all, you should have at least read some of his work, but I can never make that assumption.”

The presumed leader of the group was growing restless. “Cut the shit and get over here.”

Artemis didn’t move. “Indulge me for a moment, if you would. Shelley has a wonderful poem that often comes to mind in times such as these. It’s called Ozymandias. You may have heard it before.”

Alex himself was vaguely familiar with the poem, but he had no earthly idea what it had to do with the situation at hand. However, Artemis was clearly planning something, so he kept his mouth shut and his jaw loose.

“There’s a certain famous line in it that speaks to the impermanence of all things, reflected in an ironic inscription from the titular pharaoh.” Artemis made a sweeping gesture. “Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!”

The world before Alex exploded into a cacophony.

What could only be described as a solid wall of sound slammed into him from the center of the room, knocking Alex off of his feet and sending his gun skittering across the floor. The Spartoi members seemed closer to the epicenter of the blast and fared worse, being violently thrown away from him and against the wall behind them. The combination of the force and the impact knocked most of them unconscious and left the rest clutching their ears in a daze. Even Artemis, who obviously knew the explosion was coming, was knocked backward.

Ears ringing, Alex grabbed Artemis by the arm in preparation to haul them both back to their feet. Before he could, though, two large hands grabbed them by the collar and pulled them upright. _Butler._

The bodyguard was watching Alex as he retrieved his gun. Its weight in his hand an uneasy source of comfort through the adrenaline pumping through his veins. “Rider. Take the rear and make sure none of them follow us out. I’ll make sure nobody’s waiting for us at the car.”

Alex nodded in agreement to the plan. “Let’s go, then.” The sirens were the only interruption of the tense silence that descended upon them as the exited through the rear of the restaurant. It seemed that the rest of the staff and patrons had fled as far as possible from the scene, and Alex couldn’t blame them. Hopefully, no bystanders that ended up being hit by that soundwave.

There was a sudden burst of movement out from behind one of the valet parking spots. Alex turned and leveled his gun, but Butler moved before he could fire. With a surprising swiftness for a man of his age and size, he brought the side of his hand down onto the assailant’s neck. The man crumpled to the ground, motionless. Alex could see the glint of a knife within the folds of his valet uniform.

They made it to a black Bentley, unassuming enough but obviously still intended to convey the wealth and status of its owner. It suited him, Alex thought. In any other situation, he would have probably rolled his eyes.

Butler seemed to be searching the car for any sort of explosive or tampering, so Alex took it upon himself to make sure nobody got the jump on them. He was focused so intently on the lot around him that he almost pistol-whipped Artemis in surprise when the other man put a hand on his shoulder. “Jesus Christ, dude, it’s a bad idea to startle people in moments like these.”

Artemis looked a bit frazzled, hair a mess and tie askew, but besides that no worse for wear. “It’s not safe for you here. You need to come with us.” he urged quietly. “You don’t have to make any sort of decision, but if any of them manage to get out they won’t hesitate to hurt you or worse. At the very least, you need to get as far away from here as possible.”

Alex couldn’t argue with that. He would be alone if he stayed here, completely without the assistance of any strange bombs or physical prowess of Butler to back him up. If one of them got a car or managed to figure out what bus he took home, Alex would be fucked. When Butler determined that the car was safe to enter, he took a seat in the back next to Artemis.

Through the tinted window, Alex could see flashing lights down the street. But they were long gone when they arrived, leaving the police to wonder how exactly a dozen gunmen had gotten their eardrums ruptured.


	4. Major Tom (Coming Home)

Alex stood on the threshold to his apartment. He never thought he’d be so happy to be greeted by utter silence.

Artemis and Butler were waiting in the Bentley in an unoccupied corner of the garage underneath his complex. Alex had asked for a few minutes alone in his residence to think over his options, and thankfully Artemis had obliged. He agreed with Butler’s caution that they should keep moving in case the Spartoi had started to scour the city for a car of their license number, but he needed this moment of familiarity if he was going to clear his head.

Entering the apartment, Alex flicked the main light on. Everything seemed to be where he had left it that morning. Hopefully, it meant that the Spartoi from _La Princesse_ hadn’t been able to send any information out to their other members about his identity or whereabouts. They should be safe, for now.

For now. The caveat seemed to rule his life. Every moment of stability since he was 14 had been punctuated by it. No matter where Alex was, no matter what he was doing, things could go south in the blink of an eye.

Alex wouldn’t say he was a big fan of it, this certainty in uncertainty. But it looked like something he wasn’t ever going to escape. For a moment, Alex stood in the middle of the room in silence, staring at the small frames sitting on his mantle. Most of its subjects had been violently killed before their time.

 How many people had had their lives cut short by organizations like Scorpia, like the Spartoi? How many families had seen their numbers dwindle to almost nothing, just like his own? Was Alex disrespecting their memory by hesitating to avenge them? Or would putting himself in danger yet again make their deaths be in vain?

Alex barely knew Artemis Fowl the Second. From what he could tell, though, beneath the smug intelligence lie something genuine. Fowl seemed to truly care about his family and, by all accounts, the people whose lives were going to be both directly and indirectly affected by the future actions of this criminal group. Including Alex himself. It was more than he could say about any of his previous employers in the field.

In a weird way, Alex almost felt drawn to him. Like it or not, he was invested in the other man’s wellbeing. If Artemis was taken right now, Alex was certain he’d feel a certain responsibility to help him. But preemptively putting his neck on the line for him? That he was less sure about.

Alex walked forward until the frames on the mantle were just below eye level. The last one on the left caught and held his attention. Alex lifted his arm hesitatingly grab it, then paused in mid-air. The subject, a woman not much older than he was now, was smiling past his shoulder into the distance. His hand dropped into a fist at his side. She was gone, and the people who killed her were trying to do it again.

Losing a loved one was the worst pain imaginable. Alex wouldn’t stand to see it happen to any other families, be it the Fowls or anyone else. Not while there was something he could do about it.

It didn’t take long for Alex to pack what he needed. When he returned to the Bentley, Artemis and Butler were waiting inside. With a deep breath, Alex sat in the back beside Artemis.

“I’ll do it.”

* * *

 

Fowl Manor was picturesque this time of year. The lush Irish green of the land seemed to gleam in the sunlight, broken up by the occasional splashes of pink, white, and orange from the impressive flower arrangements Angeline herself had designed.

Artemis sat in ruins he had died in, surrounded by the brilliance of untamed orange roses. The shade, or as near as he could gather, was closest to that of a persimmon. Hexadecimal #EC5800, although that, of course, depended on the lighting and the individual flower.

Artemis had difficulty staying inside on days like this now. It had done little to darken his complexion, as his brothers were happy to constantly inform him, but it was here was where he felt the most whole now. Most alive.

Over the years since his return, Artemis had developed the theory that his current body did not contain all of his soul. When he and his former body had been prematurely separated, his physical form had literally been that of the fairy roses. Being reintroduced into another version of himself didn’t completely erase that fact. He was a part of the roses and the roses were a part of him. That was why he could only truly feel warm under the sunlight, why sometimes the faintest taste of phantom dirt lingered on his tongue.

Artemis still hadn’t figured out what that exactly made him, humanity-wise.

The sound of the flowers whispering to each other in the breeze pulled him from his introspection. A figure was approaching from the direction of the manor. Alex had finished putting away his things, then.

Artemis had been thoroughly impressed by Rider so far. He was quick on his feet, made sound snap judgments, and seemed to be able to handle himself just fine when trouble showed its head. The files he’d read had painted a picture of this “teenage super spy” who had managed to save millions of lives and stop countless criminals before he’d turned 16.

Those files also tended to gloss over the personal prices Alex had paid on those missions. A family member’s death had started the entire affair and a family member’s death had ended it as well. He had been shot, tortured, and nearly killed more times than a combat veteran, and in the end, simply discarded as another piece of broken cannon fodder.

Artemis felt a pang of guilt for bringing Alex back into this life. He deserved to live peacefully for the rest of his days after the trauma of his early teen years and not have to relive it all at the request of a stranger. _We are saving lives and helping families_ , Artemis reminded himself.

Alex had seemed to understand that as well. It had taken surprisingly little convincing to get him to agree to his proposal. Then again, maybe being ambushed in the middle of lunch did the convincing for him.

Alex stepped onto the ancient stone, hands in his pockets. The sun seemed to just barely glint off of his dirty blond hair, bringing to Artemis’ mind the nimbus traditionally surrounding a classical sun god. Phoebus Apollo, perhaps, or maybe even Helios back before the two were practically synonymous.

It had a greater effect on Artemis than he would like to admit.

Alex cleared his throat, breaking the stillness of the moment. “Um, Butler said I could find you out here.”

Artemis rose from the crumbled section of a wall he had been seated on. “Yes. Forgive me, I needed a few moments alone to collect myself.”

Alex shrugged, placing his hands into his pockets. “I don’t blame you. It’s been an eventful day” He turned and focused his gaze on the orange roses. “These are really beautiful, by the way. I've never seen anything quite like them.”

Artemis moved so they were standing side by side, watching the flowers dance subtly in the wind. “Thank you. They’re, ah, personal favorites of mine.”

Alex gave him a sideways glance, smiling a little. “They’re pretty flashy. But I’ve gathered that that’s pretty on brand, huh?’

Artemis let out a small laugh. “I have been told by several people that I have a tendency towards the dramatic.”

Alex snorted. “I get the feeling that’s an understatement. A concussion blast triggered by a line of poetry? I’ll admit, it was a first for me.”

“A sonic blast.” Artemis corrected automatically. “It’s come in handy before, but there’s always the possibility that it could backfire. You behaved phenomenally back there, by the way. I can’t thank you enough.”

Alex shrugged. “Don’t mention it. I’m glad we all got out safely and you didn’t end up locked in some criminal’s basement.” Artemis winced at the remark, but Alex didn’t seem to notice. “Do you… do you know why they want you? Like specifically?”

Artemis sighed wearily. “That’s the question, isn’t it? I wish I could figure it out so I could take as many steps possible to ensure they don’t achieve whatever they’re planning. Sending you in is the best shot I’ve got.”

After a moment of silence, Alex set a hand on his shoulder. Artemis turned to face him, his face betraying his surprise.

“I’ll do my best,” he said solemnly, meeting his eyes.

Artemis managed a smile. “You have my gratitude.”

They stood like that for a moment, framed by the fairy roses and the fading light. Then just as quickly as it came, the spell was gone, and Artemis turned back towards the manor. “We should probably head back soon. Beckett and Juliet should be finished with their broadsword lessons by now, and I’m sure Myles could use a break from genetics-based phylogeny. Besides, you should get some rest. We’re leaving for Cardiff in the morning.”

Alex cleared his throat and turned his gaze away. “Uh, yeah. That’s a great idea. We should do that.”

Silently, they walked back to Fowl Manor together through the softly stirring field.


	5. The Chain

The Fowl family was an interesting collection of characters, to say the least. According to Artemis, it was rare for all members of the family to be present at the manor for more than a few days’ time. Because of the recent threats to their safety, though, they all had been home for a while and were going to be staying there until things were taken care of.

Which meant Alex got to meet each member individually over the course of his evening at Fowl Manor.

Angeline approached him first, smiling welcomingly and asking him how he was after that “business in London.” Alex hadn’t had a true maternal figure since he had left America, and her dignified warmth sent a pang through him.

“Take care of my son,” Angeline had whispered as she squeezed his arm. “We can’t lose him.” _Again,_ hung in the air unsaid, perturbing Alex. Artemis had implied a troubled past before, but Alex had failed to begin to comprehend it until now.

In a weird way, it was almost comforting. They had a lot more in common than it had seemed on the surface. Alex just hoped that whatever Artemis had gotten himself into in his younger years didn’t end up making an already complicated mission harder.

Artemis Fowl the First was reading in an upright chair when Alex entered the room. Despite Alex’s protests, he had insisted on rising to greet him. He seemed older than what Alex figured his age was numerically, and the shift of the pants fabric near his ankles betrayed what seemed to be a prosthetic leg. Still, the senior Fowl was an imposing figure, and Alex couldn’t help but feel intimidated by his firm handshake.

The exchange made Alex feel weirdly self-conscious, like he was meeting a paramour’s parents for the first time. That realization made him feel even weirder, and he pushed the sensation down to deal with later. The fact that Fowl Senior seemed to almost be sizing him up didn’t help matters either. Alex mumbled something vague about needing rest and had left the room quickly. 

It wasn’t long after when he was ambushed. Alex had just barely processed the small shadow that had crept its way into the corner of his vision before it suddenly increased in velocity and flew at him. Reacting on instinct, Alex grabbed the figure and used its own motion against them, propelling them across the room with a quick movement.

“Dammit!” came a youthful voice. Upon inspection, Alex’s attacker appeared to be a ten-year-old blond boy. He stood himself up and rubbed his elbow, grumbling. “I thought for sure I was going to get you with that one.”

“Beckett, we’ve talked about your mother’s thoughts on swearing in the house.” A muscular blonde woman had appeared in the doorframe behind Alex. She seemed to be a couple of years older than himself, maybe in her early thirties, and bore a passing resemblance to Butler. Her long ponytail was flipped over the front of her shoulder and ended in an ostentatious jade ring. “Also, that approach was super weak. I could have fended that off with a blindfold on.”

Beckett scowled. “That’s why I wasn’t trying to attack you.”

Another boy, this one much more closely resembling Artemis appeared behind the woman. He was smirking, and his hand was outstretched. “Unsurprisingly, I was right. Hand it over.”

Beckett made a rude gesture, drawing an irritated noise from the blonde woman. Then he dug into his pockets as he walked over and pulled out a 10 euro note, which the other boy accepted smugly.

Alex looked back and forth between the pair and wondered if every Fowl had to be dramatic about everything or they’d die. “Did you seriously bet him if he could successfully attack me?”

The mini-Artemis looked offended. “Bet is a rather vulgar word. I just issued him a challenge in which money happens to be given to the winner.”

The blonde woman rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Alex. “Sometimes questioning them only makes things worse.” She smiled and shook his hand with an iron grip. “I’m Juliet Butler. The Jade Princess.” She seemed to be watching him for a moment of sudden recognition, then sighed when he didn’t. “Of course, Artemis brings home a man who doesn’t know anything about wrestling. Of course.”

Before Alex had time to process what she meant by that statement, Juliet released his hand and changed the subject. “You’ve probably figured this out already, but the twin gremlins are Beckett and Myles.”

Alex glanced over at the pair, who seemed to be in the middle of a heated debate over god knows what. “They seem like a handful,” he said, somewhat lamely.

Juliet laughed. “All the Fowls are handfuls. I’m sure you know that by now.” It was an assessment Alex couldn’t argue with.

She tilted her head and looked him over, absently messing with a stay lock of hair. “So, you’re going with Arty to Cardiff, yeah?” Juliet pursed her lips when he warily nodded. “I wish Do- my brother, I mean- was going with you. It kills him not to be there.”

Alex frowned. “Butler isn’t coming?”

Juliet shook her head. “No. But that’s something you’ll have to talk to Artemis about. Speaking of,” She leaned forward, dropping her tone. “I love this family more than anything in this world. If you hurt any one of them or turn against us, by the time my brother and I are finished with you there won’t be enough left to even cremate.” The smile hadn’t left her face.

Alex swallowed as Juliet leaned back away and said over her shoulder lightly. “Boys, time to start winding down. Let’s go.” She glanced back at Alex. “I’d imagine you want some rest too. Sleep well.”

With that, she herded the boys out of the room, having to physically grab Beckett in order to get him moving.

Alex had decided that he had enough interactions with the Fowls for one day and made his way to the room he had set his stuff down in. He was pretty sure it was larger than his entire apartment. God, it must be nice to have millions of dollars and an ancestral mansion.

It was nice to be among a family unit again, though. Alex had left America and the Pleasures of his own accord and had no intention of going back for anything more than a visit. It was a decision he had stuck with for the past eight years and hadn’t regretted.

This was different, though. Nobody here looked at him with bottomless pity. No one acted like he was some sort of glass creature that would break if breathed upon. No hushed conversations were suddenly silenced when he walked in the room.

The Fowls were anything but a stereotypical family, but maybe that was why Alex had taken a liking to them even in such a brief time span.

A wave of exhaustion swept over him. It had been a long fucking day, and Alex had the feeling it would be the first of many tiring days to come. It would be wise to stock up on energy while he could. With any luck, he’d be too tired to even dream.

 Alex flipped the lights, crawled under the ridiculously high thread count sheets, and let oblivion take him.

* * *

 

 When Alex found Artemis the next morning, he was conducting a phone call in a language he didn’t recognize.

It wasn’t that Alex couldn’t understand the language. That was a feeling he had gotten used to at this point. Usually, though, he at least had an inkling of what the people around him were speaking.

Not this one, though. Alex had heard nothing like it in his life. At the same time, though, it was agonizingly familiar, like the name of a forgotten friend lingering on the tip of his tongue. It was as if every language in the world had been jumbled together and inverted, with a few odd Hs thrown into the mix.

Of course, it could be entirely possible that Artemis made up the language himself. That wouldn’t have shocked Alex. What was impressive was that there appeared to be another human being who had been willing to learn this language and hold a conversation with him in it.

Artemis seemed to be reassuring the person on the other end of the line about something, most likely the mission to come. His posture had relaxed slightly, and even the strange dialect couldn’t disguise the fact that he was obviously very close with the person in question.

“You know the more people you talk about this to, the more likely our cover gets blown? And by ours, I mean mine.” Alex commented after Artemis had ended the call.

 “I’m well aware,” Artemis replied, giving him a dry smile. “But this is something I need you to trust me on. My friend can be relied upon to keep things to themselves.” He slid the phone into his back pocket. “Besides, there are much more important things for you to worry about right now.”

Alex raised an eyebrow but didn’t press the issue, as much as it stressed him out to have an unaccounted human variable that could end up getting both of them killed. “Alright.” He laughed a little. “By the way, your brother tried to jump me last night.”

Artemis rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking apologetic. “Yes, Juliet told me as much. I hope he didn’t cause too much of a fuss.”

Alex shrugged. “Nah, it wasn’t a big deal. I would have felt bad if I had accidentally hurt him, though.”

“If he’s been training with Juliet, she hasn’t been going easy on him. I’m sure he’s had worse.” Artemis shook his head. “I am glad that there is a Fowl actively capable of defending themselves, but I do wish he would stop trying to practice on any and all of our guests.”

Alex laughed again. “They definitely seem like a lot to manage.” Something Juliet had mentioned nagged at him. “Is it true that Butler isn’t coming with us?”

Artemis sighed, suddenly looking a great deal wearier. Alex wondered how much he had slept the night before. “As much as it pains me, I think it would be a bad idea. Like it or not, Butler is an extremely noticeable presence that someone is bound to take note of sooner or later. If Butler stays here, anyone monitoring the estate would have more reason to believe that I’m here as well. But mostly I would prefer him to stay and protect my family while we’re gone. I would like to take as few chances with their wellbeing as possible.”

It wasn’t a line of reasoning Alex would argue with no matter how much more at ease a hulking bodyguard would put him. “I don’t blame you. I would probably do the same thing in your shoes.”

Artemis seemed somewhat relieved. “I’m glad you understand.” Then he took a deep breath and shook his head. “Do you have your things together? I would prefer if we get going as soon as we can.”

Alex nodded and gave him a quick smile.

“Let’s do this thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I personally tend to imagine that Gnommish sounds sort of like the reconstructions I've heard of Proto-Indo-European language


	6. Der Kommissar

Alex stared down at the driver’s license bearing his new identity. _Liam Skye_ , the name next to the grainy black and white picture read in its blocky font.

“I sound like a character out of a young adult fantasy novel,” he commented to Artemis, who seemed to be calibrating some sort of scientific instrument on the other side of the room.

He didn’t look up from his work. “Remind me which one of us is named Artemis, again?”

Alex snorted and shoved the ID into his wallet. “Fair point.”

They were in the safe house- safe apartment? – in Cardiff that Artemis had managed to obtain through one of his less savory connections. It had nowhere near the grandeur of Fowl Manor, to be sure, but it was still leagues nicer than the place Alex had been renting before.

On the plane ride over, Artemis had explained that his research had suggested to their being some sort of Spartoi base in Cardiff proper, if not their entire headquarters. It had taken a while, but Artemis had managed to trace the initial messages he had received from the organization to the general vicinity. Faye Raught had also been allegedly sighted multiple times in Cardiff as well. It wasn’t much, but it was more than they had for anything else.

Alex’s job now was going to be getting himself recruited by the Spartoi. Artemis had managed to coerce some minor criminals in the area to help set up the initial meeting, but Alex was going to need to talk his way in himself.

It all felt very real all of a sudden. The beast was waiting with its mouth wide open, and here Alex was willingly walking into its maw. _The Greeks put themselves in the middle of their enemies as well,_ he reminded himself, _and they ended up winning the war because of it._ Alex tried not to think too hard on what he remembered of the fates of many Greek heroes and those around them.

Alex looked back at Artemis and the convoluted machine he was setting up. “What is that?” he asked after a moment, knowing full well that the answer was probably going to be unnecessarily complicated.

This time, Artemis did look up. “This? It’s an advanced thermocycler that I’ve been tinkering with. I’d like to maximize and standardized the purity of the DNA duplicates it produces to create a faster and cleaner next-gen sequencing read. Ideally, it would be implemented as a minimally invasive diagnostic technique in medical settings, but I’m hoping it may have some potential applications in the area of tissue regeneration and replacement as well. Regardless, that lies in the future and relies on the assumption that the EMA responds to medical advances in a timely fashion, which is rather uncharacteristic of them.”

Alex nodded a few times in false comprehension at the close of each sentence.  He had never found sesquipedalian tendencies to be particularly endearing before, but here he was. “I understood a string of maybe five of those words if I’m being honest, my dude.”

Maybe it was the novelty of being referred to in such an informal matter or something more subtle Alex couldn’t entirely pick up upon, but Artemis seemed almost amused. “It’s a personal project of mine. I’ll need something to do if I’m going to stay in this enclosed space for an unspecified period of time and not revert back to bad habits.”

He jabbed the power button, and the machine took an achingly long time to shut down. “Which reminds me. I have some things for you. If I recall correctly, the MI6 would give you, well, gadgets, for lack of a better term, before you went on an assignment, yes?

Alex grinned. He couldn’t help it. This has always been his favorite part of his missions. It was like Christmas morning if all the presents could be creatively used to kill a man. “That’s right. When did you even have time to come up with any?”

Artemis shrugged noncommittally. “Most of them were based on prototypes or designs I already had. It wasn’t too much work to tweak them.” He took a shoebox-sized container that was sitting on another counter and slid it across to Alex. “I must admit, I’m only marginally more connected to youth culture than MI6 brass, so I do hope these don’t look out of place on our dear friend Liam.”

Alex undid the clasps of the box and lifted the lid with some anticipation. He took in the contents. Inside lay a bracelet made up of rubbery beads, several abstract and colorful vinyl stickers, a stud earring, and a thin golden ring.

“That’s a lot of jewelry,” Alex remarked, glancing back up at their creator.

Fowl had moved so he was standing beside him. “Jewelry is a very natural thing to find on a person. It tends not to raise suspicions even when things go wrong.”

“I guess that makes sense.” They were certainly more elegant than a yo-yo or a CD player as far as subtlety went.

Artemis lifted the bracelet out and handed it to Alex. The beads were all black except for one, which contrasted with the others sharply with its light seafoam. “Each one of these beads can be detached from the parent chain. Doing so arms them, and once armed can be activated by twisting the turquoise bead. The detached bead will then undergo an internal chemical reaction that will cause it to expand to over 50 times its original size. Ideal for creating diversions or the like, although I’m sure you’ll come up with other imaginative uses in the field.”

Alex laughed and slid the bracelet onto his left wrist. “That tends to be the pattern. What are the stickers for?”

Artemis flipped them over and fanned them out, revealing a thin layer of circuitry on the backside. “You’ve lived most of your life in the city. I imagine I don’t have to tell you about the prevalence of these things in urban areas.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen a piece of public property without at least one piece of vinyl stuck to it,” Alex confirmed. “Nobody’s going to give another couple a second glance.”

Artemis gave him an approving smile, seeming to approve of how quickly Alex was catching on. There was an odd tug in Alex’s chest that he willfully ignored. “Precisely. Sticking these up in the area around their headquarters should help me gain access to their system remotely. Even if I can’t get into their more secure files, I would like to at least get an in into their security system and cameras to keep any investigating you do under wraps.”

“I appreciate it.” Taking the single earring out of its holding, Alex weighed it in its palm. It looked the same as a thousand other cheap earrings sold in piercing shops, but upon closer inspection, something about it seemed slightly off. It wasn’t just that the clip on gave a remarkably good impression of an actual piercing. It was lighter than he expected, and the clear crystal- cubic zirconium? -didn’t seem to reflect off as much light as it should have.

“This one isn’t anything too advanced,” Artemis’ voice cut through his thoughts. “But it will allow us to communicate in a fairly inconspicuous manner.” He motioned for Alex to clip the stud on, which he obeyed. “There’s a two-way microphone inside of it that becomes activated when you turn the crystal.”

Alex reached up and gave the gem a small twist. A faint hiss of static filled his left ear.

Artemis made a similar motion to one of his cufflinks and brought it to his face. “Can you hear me?”

The voice coming through Alex’s end was surprisingly crisp. “Loud and clear,” he replied. The echo of his own voice radiated from Artemis’ wrist.

Fowl gave a nod of satisfaction and twisted his communicator off. “I’ve developed the speakers so the sound is highly concentrated. Meaning unless someone is standing with their face next to your ear, they shouldn’t be able to hear me. Of course, if you respond, it will still make you appear as if you were talking to yourself, but that’s unavoidable.”

“I’ll do my best to stay aware of my surroundings,” Alex responded wryly, switching the earring back into the off position.

He blinked in surprise when Artemis took ahold of his right hand. Some part of Alex made note of how soft his skin was against his own. His free hand held the golden ring between his thumb and index finger.

“As a lower level member, it’s doubtful that you’d have access to all areas and files that would be useful. The ring should help you get into places you shouldn’t. It acts as both a powerful decryption device and a skeleton key.” Artemis looked down at Alex’s fingers and seemed momentarily distracted. “I, uh, I had to make an educated guess on your ring size. The MI6 didn’t include that in their files, and it somehow failed to naturally come up in conversation. I can resize it if need be.”

Artemis tentatively slid it onto Alex’s index finger. It fit perfectly. Their hands lingered there, together.

After a moment, Alex cracked a grin. “I would normally make a joke about you taking me to lunch before putting a ring on me, but I guess that already happened, huh? So I can’t complain.”

The tips of Artemis’ ears took a noticeable rosy hue. For once, he seemed to be out of well-structured sentences to give in retort. “Oh, um, yes. Quite.”

Laughing, Alex drew his hand away. “It was a joke.” _Sort of_ , a tiny voice in the back of his head added.

 That encouraged him to change the subject before it said anything else.

“All of this shit is pretty amazing, man,” he said, gesturing to the gadgets on and around him. “I know you guys are well off and all, but why don’t you patent this stuff? It seems less complicated and easier to sell than that thing.” He pointed to the hulking machine on the other counter.

The tired look that came over Artemis made him seem nearly a decade older. “It’s… rather complicated. I trust the intent and competency of world governments as much as you do, and the private sector holds too much risk that the wrong person will use something for the wrong reasons. People have gotten hurt because of my creations before and I’m going to do everything in my power to prevent it from happening again.” He glanced away, toying with the cufflink opposite of the one that served as a communicator.

Alex’s brow furrowed slightly. There it was again, this constant need for some sort of atonement. He had picked up on it in earlier conversations with Artemis as well. “You know,” he said tentatively, “You aren’t responsible for the actions of other people.”

Artemis’ jaw clenched as he met Alex’s eyes again. There was a certain coldness in them, less like ice and more like steel.

“Perhaps. But I am responsible for my own.”

* * *

 

Cailean Cromwell was not the largest man Alex had ever seen, but he was certainly one of the most striking. And that was saying something. There seemed to be something about diabolical masterminds that attracted odd characters to serve under them. _Mini-bosses, when it came down to it,_ Alex thought with no small trace of dryness.

The man appraising him fit that description to a T. He was the Hollywood image of a Scottish thane, with flaming red hair that almost reached his waist, even in a low ponytail. His beard was thick but well groomed, but it failed to make his face look any fuller. The gauntness of his facial features stood in contrast to the tight musculature of the rest of his body. The blue edges of tattoos poked their way out of his dress blazer, both around his wrists and his collar. A dragon claw necklace hung low across his chest on a leather cord.

Artemis’s research had uncovered scant more about her right-hand man than it had about Fay Raught. Whoever had scrubbed the internet of their former lives had done a damned good job of it. The file compiled on Cromwell contained little more than whispers. A brief and bloody stint in special forces. Mysterious vanishings of peers. Dealings with the SNLA. All in all, not the sort of man you wanted to have as your enemy if you aspired to live a long and happy life.

That man was studying Alex now, eyes bottomless pits of dark blue. “Skye, was it?” he intoned in a surprisingly quiet Gaelic accent. Each word was laborious and deliberate.

“That’s right. Sir.” Alex did his best to look both indifferent to the status of the man before him and at the same time willfully subordinate. He needed to be tough enough to hire but not too tough to be seen as a threat. The almost abandoned docks they were meeting on offered no protection from the windchill of the sea, but Alex did his best to ignore it.

The woman standing next to Alex spoke up. “He’s the best match to the sort of people you’re looking for that I could find ‘round these parts. I saw him go against five other blokes during a bar fight and come out with barely a scratch. And he knows how to keep himself to himself.” If she was nervous about the double role she was playing, she betrayed none of it in her expression.

Cromwell seemed to be considering. “Julia mentioned you had ties to Scorpia before they collapsed. Is that true?”

“Yes, uh, sir. I was too young at the time, of course, but my older brother had been a part for almost 10 years. He had been training me and getting me ready to join at his side for years when…” Alex’s expression tightened. “He was in Egypt when it happened, sir.”

Cromwell shook his head. “A tragedy.”

“They never even told us how he died or even gave him back to us. We buried him in an empty coffin.” Alex’s fists were tight, but Liam had long shed his last tears over the incident.

“Never fear. Your brother’s work will not have been in vain. Scorpia’s folly shall be our triumph.” Cromwell seemed to have made up his mind. He gave Alex an emotionless smile, just wide enough for him to spot a glint of gold hidden amongst his otherwise perfect teeth. “From the bones of the dragon rise the warriors who will reshape the earth.”

He turned to Julia and gave her a curt nod. She inclined her head respectfully in response. “You did well with this one. We were in need of more couriers.” Turning back to Alex, Cromwell gave him one last heavy look. “Be here at 08:00 tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

An electric chill swept through Alex as he watched the broad form of the other man leaving in the opposite direction from which he came, all at once terrifying and exhilarating.

The real work began now.


	7. 9 to 5

“You’ve never even heard of it? I know for a fact you haven’t been living under a rock for the past seven or so years.”

“This might come as a surprise to you, but none of my areas of expertise lie in pop culture. Especially not children’s media.”

They hadn’t lived together for very long yet, but already the banter fell easily from Alex’s lips. “You’re not the sort of man who would fall into the trap of genres. It’s a kid’s show, yeah, but a kid’s show that happens to be a lot better than most adult shows I’ve watched.”

Artemis still looked skeptical. “Is that so?”

“Yes! It’s got horror and mystery tied together by the bonds of family and friendship, what’s not to love?” Alex gestured to the TV screen, where the series page for _Gravity Falls_ was open on Hulu. “You’ve been working on your thing all day. Take a break and experience the world outside of your head for a bit.”

Artemis’ eyes flickered between his project and Alex’s best imitation of a begging puppy. “…I do like mysteries,” he said begrudgingly. “I suppose I’ll watch a few episodes. Maybe it’ll give me something to talk to Beckett and Miles about.”

Alex gave a fist pump in an exaggerated celebration of his victory as Artemis sat down next to him. The relative darkness of the room wasn’t enough to hide eye roll in response.

As it turned out, Artemis quite liked _Gravity Falls_. Not that he had said as much out loud. But when the theme for the end credits began to play, Artemis didn’t protest when Alex hit the button for the next episode or the next several after that.

“It resonates, in a strange way,” Artemis said unprompted when Alex had paused an episode in order to silence the kettle screaming from the kitchen. He looked almost nostalgic. “Being young and believing in things no one else dares to.”

Truthfully, Alex didn’t know what to make of that exact statement, but he was happy to see that he seemed to be enjoying himself. When he came back in the room with two steaming mugs of tea, Artemis graciously accepted and didn’t seem to notice when Alex sat down just a hair closer to him.

The next episode was one Alex had probably seen at least a dozen times, so he stealthily turned his attention to Artemis’ face. The bright colors from the television danced across his pale face, a touch of a smile appearing every now and then when the show pulled off a particularly clever bit. For once, the other man seemed not older but younger than his age.

Alex wondered when the last time was the Artemis felt like a child, or if he had ever even felt like one in the first place.

After that night, a routine started to fall into place. It took a few days, but eventually Artemis no longer had to be coaxed away from whatever it was he was working on and would sit down next to Alex before he had even turned the TV on. Alex’s posture gradually relaxed as they spent more time like this. If Artemis had also relaxed, it was nigh imperceptible, but still, he didn’t pull away when their legs ended up touching or when Alex slung his arm over the back of Artemis’ half of the couch.

They got through Gravity Falls in less time than Alex initially thought they would. To his disappointment, Artemis had managed to figure out the major twists of the series before they had finished the first season, because of course he had. But he was pleased to find there were still some minor surprises that the writers had managed to slip past even Artemis.

By then, Alex had developed a considerable watch list of media Artemis wasn’t allowed to die without at least seeing a bit of. They started _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ next, which swiftly brought to Alex’s attention, to his utter horror, that Artemis didn’t even have a passing knowledge of the _Die Hard_ franchise. The next few evenings were spent remedying this glaring problem. 

Artemis was clearly not as impressed with Jeb Stuart and Steven E. de Souza’s writing as he was with Alex Hirsch’s, but he seemed to get some enjoyment out of the set up of the movie if nothing else. And he mentioned that he was glad he was able to understand a good portion of Juliet’s references now. 

Gradually, Artemis began showing Alex the things he liked as well. Before long he found himself discussing the nuances behind David Tennant’s performance as the titular _Hamlet_ compared to those of Ruth Nega, the expert cinematography of _Moonlight_ , and how deeply influential the imagery of Jean Cocteau’s _La Belle et la Bête_ was on all films that followed. He read Richard Siken while Artemis started _The Song of Achilles._ It was a bizarre but not necessarily unpleasant experience.

In all honesty, Alex enjoyed the process of getting to know the other man better. It had been somewhat of a shock to come in after work one day to find _Ziggy Stardust_ blasting while Artemis typed furiously on his laptop, deep in thought. Now he would be shocked not to return to the dulcet tones Freddie Mercury, Stevie Nicks, or the like. When Alex started sneaking more contemporary music onto a suspiciously unguarded Spotify playlist, Artemis had surprisingly let it be. A strange, warm joy filled Alex’s body the first time he entered the apartment to the apocalyptic musings of _NFWMB_ , and it only grew when Artemis gave him a slightly smug knowing look over his monitor.

“I like his take on religion,” was all that he said, shrugging casually.

Alex was discovering other things too. Like the orange bottle filled with pills he had discovered when venturing into Artemis’ bathroom, trying to find q-tips. He didn’t have to look at the prescription to know they matched the ones currently stashed in his own medicine cabinet, although a quick glance revealed a slightly higher dosage.

**_WARNING:_ ** _May cause drowsiness. Use care when operating a vehicle, vessel, or machine. May cause dizziness. Call doctor if you experience mood changes, sadness, depression, or fear. If using nsaids and this drug there may be a risk of stomach bleeding._

It wasn’t necessarily a shocking revelation to Alex, but it did put a lot of things into perspective. There were times when Artemis seemed to be consumed by some sort of restless energy but was unable to find an outlet for it. He’d fruitlessly open and close several files on his laptop in rapid succession like he was looking for something that he just was unable to find. He would stare into the middle distance, fingers tapping out some complex rhythm until he seemed to realize what he was doing and forcibly stopped himself. These lapses seemed to frustrate Artemis more than anything, which probably did nothing to improve his emotional state.

Alex understood all too well. The manifestations might be different, sure, but came from the same root, insidiously twisting through both of their minds. Same cake, different flavors, really.

He did what he could to help. Alex had concluded long ago that he was absolute rubbish when it came to feelings, be they his own or someone else’s, so he tended to try for the distraction route. He would ask Artemis questions about some esoteric topic or another and see a spark return to the other man’s eyes as he delved into the details about Le Chatelier's principle or the economic impact of native bees on the annual yield of the North American sunflower crop. Or they would simply share a cup of tea (it turned out both of them had a preference towards black tea, though Alex did enjoy a bit more milk in his own cup) in a silence that would gradually become more comfortable as the time passed.

As it turns out, though, the person who Alex ended up discovering the most about during that time was himself.

It hit him rather suddenly one evening. They were watching _Thor: Ragnarök_ in an attempt on Alex’s part to persuade Artemis to give at least some superhero films a chance. It was all going well, things considered. Artemis seemed somewhat out of it but still enjoying the movie. There was a comfortable space between them, close but not too close. Alex sipped on his Heineken and was pleased with the dull warmth blossoming in his chest.

Artemis had to ruin it all by falling asleep on him.

There was a soft _thunk_ as his head hit Alex’s shoulder. He stiffened automatically, free hand very nearly spasming down to the weapon on his hip. Sudden uninitiated contact still triggered his fight or flight instincts, even now. Then he took a deep breath, counted to three in his head, and turned his attention to Artemis.

At first, Alex couldn’t help but wonder if Artemis had been drugged and they were currently in the middle of an elaborate ambush that wasn’t going to end well for any party involved. Everything in the apartment had seemed the same when he came home, and Artemis had obviously been in all day. Still, things always tended to look normal before they popped off, so to speak. Someone from his new job could have followed him home without him noticing and tampered with the water pipes or ventilation system or something. After a few tense minutes of scanning the darkened room around them and noticing his own lack of sudden drowsiness, Alex was forced to conclude that he was being a bit paranoid, even for him.

His anxieties were soothed for approximately eight seconds before he turned and looked at Artemis, the sight of whom caused a different kind of nervous energy to bubble up in Alex’s stomach. It was a feeling he had filed away to deal with later until now, but in this moment, he was forced to confront it.

Artemis’ body was relaxed in a way Alex had never witnessed before. His eyes moved behind closed lids as he entered a deeper stage of sleep, causing long, dark lashes to flutter against pale skin. His mouth was slightly ajar, and his breathing was calm and even. For once, Artemis wasn’t strategizing or engineering or fretting over something. He was simply… _being_.

Alex’s first thought is that he’d never seen anything so beautiful.

His second is _Oh, I’m right fucked._

It wasn’t as if Alex had never been attracted to men before. He’d gone on just as many dates with guys as he had girls when he was in college, and even gone a bit further with a few of them. Alex could never commit himself to a serious relationship, though. Having such a trust, such an intimate bond with another human being had simply seemed incapable to him, and eventually, he had given up romance as something that would ever lie in his future. There were things he wasn’t allowed to or was incapable of speaking about, and Alex felt the burden of his scars wasn’t something another person would truly be able to share. The best option for both of them had always been to walk away.

Besides, he knew what happened to the people that got close to him.

Artemis, though… Artemis was different. He was used to danger, planned on it, counted on it even. He had his own past upon his shoulders, and even if neither of them shared the load, having a companion who could understand the weight was almost refreshing. He had a sharp mind, an admittedly dry but still very present sense of humor, and a way of captivating Alex’s attention with ease.

It didn’t help that he was also, in Alex’s opinion, quite good to look at.

All the feelings he had managed to push comfortably down since he met Artemis were bubbling back up in spades, and all the British emotional repression in the world was going to have a hard time to get them back down. This wasn’t something he could ignore any longer.

Alright then. So he had developed feelings for someone who had become a close friend in the middle of an operation to keep said friend safe from a shadowy organization with unknown nefarious schemes. Rather strong feelings, in fact, and ones that didn’t seem like they were going to be leaving anytime soon.

But Artemis… Alex pursed his lips as he surveyed the sleeping figure beside him. It was far more likely than not that Artemis didn’t reciprocate, not like that. Alex didn’t even know if he was into men or anybody, for that matter. And it wasn’t as if Alex blamed him for not wanting to enter a relationship with a man who still lived with the scars of shooting his mirror image in the head. He wouldn’t blame him for immediately cutting all contact with Alex once this whole mess was sorted out. Artemis was a genius billionaire with a loving family and Alex was a former (current?) spy with whose plans for the future mainly involved living through the day.

But damn it all if he didn’t very much wish that were the case.

Grimacing, Alex downed the rest of his drink in one go. He gently removed himself from Artemis, taking care not to wake him in the process. Alex would have thought him to be a lighter sleeper, but he barely stirred when he adjusted his head to rest against the couch and pulled a blanket over him.

_This,_ he thought, burying his head in his hands, _is a disaster._

* * *

 

If there was one thing about work, it was that it was, well, work. It didn’t matter if you were in an office stapling a thousand copies of the same dozen or so pages or in a covert warehouse lifting mysterious packages, eventual every menial task would end up becoming a rhythm that one stopped noticing after a while or simply became numb to. Habituation and all that.

The job itself didn’t provide the distraction from his thoughts Alex so badly needed after the previous night. Fortunately, the whole pretending to be another person and also gather information without being caught aspect of his day tended to take up a good amount of brain space.

He set the box he had been hauling down on the back of the lorry, grimacing at the weight. For all appearances, they looked like perfectly ordinary shipping containers, no different from the thousands of others that passed through the streets of Cardiff every day. The temptation to crack the lid of one open for a quick peek was strong. Alex had his suspicions about their contents from handling them so much. Not illegal arms, he was pretty sure. At least not the big ones. Drugs seemed more likely, or counterfeit currency. He wouldn’t know for sure, though, unless he looked inside.

The sound of labored footsteps behind him ruined any chance Alex would have of confirming his theories. He stepped out of the way and allowed the woman to pass, managing not to flinch when she set her crate down hard enough to make the whole lorry vibrate.

She turned to Alex, wiping the sweat from her brow. Her hair was pulled into a severe bun that somehow managed to retain every possible stay hair, even after several hours of manual labor. Alex was fairly certain her first name was Meredith, although her family name had the tendency to escape him. She was above Alex in the Spartoi rankings, but not enough to get out of hauling duty, as it seemed.

“You coming to the gym with us tonight, Skye?”

Alex fixed a confident smirk upon his face. Liam wasn’t much of a social type, but he enjoyed being around people in the capacity where they could be impressed by him. “Of course. Same time, same place?”

Meredith gave an affirmative nod. “Don’t be late.” She began to walk back into the depths of the warehouse, and Alex fell in step behind her. “Afterwards, though, a couple of us are going to go to Raphael’s and grab some drinks. You’re welcome to join.”

This was always the tricky part. He needed to stay under the radar and prevent any former Scorpia members or the like from recognizing him, but avoid being so dodgy that it circled back around to raise suspicions.

Alex shrugged noncommittally. Best to keep it flexible and vague so he could go with either option if it became advantageous. “Thanks. I might take you up on that.”

“Brilliant.” Meredith’s hand moved absently to her back pocket. Then she froze in place, eyes wide. Swearing violently, she began patting down the remaining pockets on her clothes. Seeing as three were only three besides the one she already checked, though, it quickly became apparent that her search was fruitless.

Alex stopped, frowning. “You good?”

Meredith scowled. “I’m supposed to give the keys to the lorry driver when he shows up in a few minutes, but I must have left them somewhere in my office. I really don’t have the time for this.”

“I could go grab them for you,” Alex ventured. “If that would be helpful.”

She gave him a considering look but apparently didn’t have the time to think too much about that either. “Yes. You know which one it is?”

“410C, right?”

“That’s right. The keys should be on my desk. If not, this is going to be a shitty day.” Meredith made an impatient gesture with her hand. “Go on now.”

Alex made his way towards the exit before she could think any more about her decision. The empty, hollow feeling of the warehouse transitioned to the muted, cramped one of a run of the mill office building through the connecting hallway. Most packages might get delivered out of the warehouse, but Alex had quickly discovered that most of the real work happened in this squat, nondescript building.

Unfortunately, he had only managed to get himself inside a couple of times since his infiltration. It wasn’t that he lacked the means or the willpower, but simply the fact that the building never seemed abandoned, no matter the hour. This was just the turn Alex needed, though. With any luck, he’d be able to find a discreet entrance or some good spots to hide for when he came back for some more thorough searching.

Meredith’s “office” was little more than a cubicle on the fourth floor, the same as a dozen or so around it. Thankfully, there were only a few more people on the floor with him, and they seemed intent on keeping their airpods in like their life depended upon it. He bent over, obscuring his face behind the walls of the cubicle. The offending keys sat on a stack of loose papers, and Alex made sure to stuff them in his pocket before he forgot and left without them.

 “Artemis,” he breathed after a pause “Do you copy?”

A moment passed, then a familiar Irish voice responded. “I’m here, Alex.”

“Is there anything you want me to do while I’m here?” No doubt Artemis had heard his entire conversation with Meredith. Alex tended to keep the line open in case Artemis picked up on something that he missed. He had no doubt Fowl would keep a running commentary on his entire day if he didn’t think it would distract him from the mission.

Artemis made a noise of consideration on the other end. “I think we have time to try something, but you’re going to have to follow my instructions to the letter.”

Alex let out something that sounded almost like a laugh. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Alex considered himself above average in proficiency with technology, but whatever Artemis had him do once he’d unlocked the computer with his ring was completely beyond him. What mattered, though, was that Artemis had managed to connect to Meredith’s computer remotely and download the entire contents of her hard drive in record time and disconnect without anyone being the wiser. It was all very impressive and in no way increased the amount of attraction Alex was struggling with.

Approximately three and a half minutes later, Alex was taking the lift down to the ground floor and silently patting himself on the back for finally accomplishing something useful. Then the lift door opened and his blood ran cold. In his ear, he heard Artemis inhale sharply.

It wasn’t the fact that Cromwell was there, looming with his almost skeletal face. Alex had seen him around a few times since he’d started, always silently watching and very rarely interacting with anybody on Alex’s level, to the point where he would nearly fade into the background.

It was the fact that the woman standing in front of him was undisputedly Faye Raught, and she was looking directly into his eyes.

Faye Raught’s eyes were blue, like Artemis’, but where Artemis was a bouquet of forget-me-nots, Raught was the icy Northern Atlantic that swallowed the Titanic. They penetrated his skin like frigid seawater, probing him to the very core.

For a terrifying second, Alex could barely breathe his panic. _She knows. Oh my God. She knows who I am and we’re so fucking screwed._

Then Cromwell cleared his throat, and her eyes flickered away from his with something like amusement.

Alex regained this composure to the best of his ability. “Um, right, sorry ma’am. Excuse me.” Keeping his eyes focused on the ground in front of him to avoid accidentally making eye contact again, he hurried out of the lift.

“Mm,” was all she responded, and Alex heard the sound of the pair stepping inside the lift. It seemed to take a lifetime for the doors to close, separating him and the woman who was actively out to abduct Artemis. Even then, though, he found he couldn’t relax.

“Well,” Artemis said breathlessly after a moment. “Looks like we’ve found her.”


End file.
